


Broken Wings

by Coryphefish, DemonicGeek



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author uses Gabriel as a punching bag, BamfCrowley, Bamfziraphale, Cuddles, Everything will be fine eventually, Fools in Love, Hurt Crowley, Ineffable Partners, Kisses, Nonbinary/Nonbinary, Other, They're not men, Wing damage, Wingfic, hurt aziraphale, ineffable husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2020-12-31 21:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21152579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coryphefish/pseuds/Coryphefish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicGeek/pseuds/DemonicGeek
Summary: They'd scared off both sides for a while with the body swap, but now the respite is over. If they can shake off their assailants for long enough, which one of them will finally turn and bring about the permanent solution?"Aziraphale carefully began to take measure of Crowley's wounds. Most of it seemed centered around his wings which were… Aziraphale cringed. They would take time to heal, but none of the damage was life threatening. He gently ran his hands through the mess of red hair."





	1. Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by some beautiful angsty art by speremints found here: https://www.instagram.com/p/By-3j43nCJU/?igshid=9wjgs9x8xlz4
> 
> Then it just kind of ran away on us.

Aziraphale had been having just a normal day at the book shop. He’d successfully dissuaded a few potential customers, read through a new acquisition, and waited. Waited for Crowley to walk through the door. As he did most every day.

When Crowley finally appeared, he didn’t walk through the door. He materialized in the middle of the shop with a stumble and an unearthly gasp. Aziraphale’s head snapped. He stared into Crowley’s uncovered eyes, which radiated nothing but pain. Then Aziraphale registered the blood. And the tattered wings. 

Utterly shattered, he ran to Crowley’s side. He gently wrapped shaking arms around him as they slowly sank to the floor together.

“Crowley, what-”

“N-not muchh...time. Warehoussse. Near the essscalator entranccce.” Crowley’s eyes were wide and wild and pained as he stared into Aziraphale’s own. Then he was gone from his arms, vanishing just as abruptly as he’d arrived.

Aziraphale wasn’t aware that he was glowing, but he began to glow as he miracled himself to the escalators the two commonly used for their regular reporting. He hadn’t even stopped to take his coat.

\-------------

Crowley snapped back into the familiarly hellish room he’d only briefly escaped. His captors had told him it was all properly warded, that there were no miracles for him inside those walls. They had told him there was no escape. But he’d been able to imagine that as a bit of a rubber band. He couldn’t escape, but he could temporarily pull the tether. As he looked around the warehouse, he just hoped he’d been able to tell Aziraphale enough. His eyes slid shut to hide the pain and put his trust in his angel.

….He heard distant screaming and barely registered it as his own.

\-------------

Aziraphale materialized at the foot of the escalator and forced himself calm. He reached out for Crowley’s aura. He couldn’t feel it. What he could feel was a great deal of pain, emanating from a building a block away.

He ran. Without thinking, his wings materialized with a wave of energy to propel him faster.

The Principality Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate did not have his sword. But the light pouring from him as he blew through the door made everyone in the room cringe. Everyone except one demon chained in the back who felt a small smile on his lips as he felt the familiar presence.

An angel Aziraphale didn’t recognize turned to him and smiled.   
  


_ An angel? _

  
“Ah! Aziraphale, hello!”

Aziraphale didn't slow down, but the greeting deeply unnerved him. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't  _ angels _ . A split second later, he zeroed in on Crowley's wounded form, and let out a sob. The tattered wings weren't a surprise, but the way Crowley squeezed his eyes shut as a respite without the sunglasses...

Demons, angels, or even Aziraphale’s weekly bridge club...it no longer mattered who had done this.

The door-angel moved to stop him and was blown off his feet by a single-word rebuke that rang out like the quarter hour bell in the dead of winter. The rest regrouped warily and didn't try to stop him as he hurried to the corner. 

Crowley opened his eyes and met Aziraphale's gaze for a single blissful moment. Aziraphale watched his eyes slide shut, and the anguish in Crowley was gone. He placed utter trust in his angel, accepting that there was nothing more to be done ...and then folded in on himself again.

Aziraphale took a deep breath and steadied his stance. Aziraphale quickly assessed. Four angels in the room. Two were rushing at him, one went at Crowley swinging a brazier of hot coals, and one ran for the door. 

He let the last one run, merely considering them a new time constraint. Ignoring the two coming at him, he dove in front of Crowley, catching most of the smouldering cascade of coals and sparks across his back and side. Crowley flinched as a few strays brushed him. Aziraphale ignored the pain, reached for the now empty brass bowl, wrenched it out of the surprised angel's grasp, ducked a blow from the first of the other two, caught the second on the chin with the edge, and for the second time in less than a minute, the room shuddered with a ringing boom. 

One angel fled, now another on the ground, out cold. Aziraphale quirked an eyebrow and held the bowl by the handle. It erupted into blue flames. He threw it into the stomach of its original carrier. The angel discorporated in a ball of fire. Three.

Aziraphale pivoted, narrowly missing another blow from the last angel still currently in the room. As the angel continued past him, offseated by his miss, Aziraphale’s elbow came down in the middle of his back, knocking him to the ground. There was a flash of metal, but his hand shot out to grab the implement that had been meant for him. His enemy lay face down on the ground, and now Aziraphale was holding some sort of knife. He knew the simplest way to dispatch the threat, but hesitated. Until he saw the streaks of demon blood running down the blade and almost dropped it. Almost.   
  


Final present threat dealt with, Aziraphale spun on his heels without a moment’s pause and hurried to Crowley's side. He was lying on the floor, but at least free from those dreadful chains -- must have snapped open by themselves when the last of the angels went down. A nagging thought told him that couldn't possibly have been it, but then he was reaching for his...dearest friend, and that drowned out everything else. His wings wrapped around Crowley as he knelt, pulling him gently into an embrace and murmuring soft things into his hair. Mostly his name, repeatedly and “I’m here now.” 

Crowley slowly inhaled with a few sharp hisses and then whimpered into Aziraphale’s chest.

Aziraphale carefully began to take measure of his wounds. Most of it seemed centered around his wings which were… Aziraphale cringed. They would take time to heal, but none of the damage was life threatening. He gently ran his hands through the mess of red hair. There were some minor cuts and bruising, but again nothing that wouldn’t heal. Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief and allowed himself one moment to simply hold Crowley, even though he knew the danger wasn’t fully over yet.

Before Aziraphale was ready to let go, there was what sounded like a clap of thunder behind him. Pretentious he thought, and utterly unnecessary for a simple materialization. He hadn’t expected them to be so fast at running down an archangel. He kissed Crowley’s forehead and gently laid him down again. The brown velvet waistcoat was singed from the coals and hung askew off one arm, but there was enough left to fold and place beneath his head.

As he stood and turned, wings fanning protectively around his fallen companion behind him, he realized he wasn’t facing an archangel or even an angel at all.

"Well if it isn't the renegade dandy here now, come to collect his pet fool."

The blonde angel and the blonde demon stared each other down for a moment.

Hastur turned to the messenger. “I don’t know what you’re waiting for, take care of him.”

The angel came running, but Aziraphale was done with games. He leaned back to grab the scalpel from the back of the now discorporated angel on the ground and casually threw it. It embedded itself in the middle of the approaching angel’s chest, and he glanced down with surprise before falling to the ground and discorporating. 

Aziraphale turned once more to the Duke of Hell.

Hastur began to curiously circle Aziraphale. Eyeing him over. He didn’t even consider he was out matched but merely wondered how one angel had so easily overpowered four. He watched Aziraphale move his body, always keeping between Hastur and Crowley, always his wings around Crowley. Then he chuckled at the obvious weakness.

“You know, it’s not that we were particularly after this waste of time,” Hastur sneered. “It’s nothing personal, just, you understand, professional knowledge. For both sides.”

Aziraphale flinched but let Hastur talk. Talking was better than attacking, and it gave him time. Precious time to try to come up with a solution, because while he’d had some idea of how to deal with an archangel he’s not sure how to handle a Duke of Hell. All he knew was that Hastur would never be allowed to come anywhere near Crowley.

"Immune to Holy Water….” he continued. “What else is he immune to? We were expecting this to be a lot more difficult, you know. More dangerous. The others were all too scared after that display with the bathtub. Had to outsource the whole deal to your lot...but seems all the other stuff still works as expected.”

Aziraphale felt a stab of pain. His plan. His antics. His fault. If they hadn’t done the body swap stunt, none of this would have happened. Of course, the rational part of his brain countered, they also wouldn’t be here right now. And he needed another plan. Crowley couldn’t stop time for him right now.

Hastur was still talking. “...And everything else we could think of. Eventually we'll start to move out from the wings of course. Y'think we should even try holy water one more time. Just to be sure?"

Aziraphale had been ignoring most of what Hastur said. It was inconsequential. But those words drove home. They had intentionally hurt Crowley. They were willing to take it further. They were willing to destroy him. There was no way he was going to allow that to happen. No way he would ever let them near Crowley again.

“….or is it time to start on you? We could even make him watch. Those wings of yours might be immune to hellfire but I'm willing to bet regular fire would tear them up just fine.”

Aziraphale spared a quick glance over his shoulder. He wasn’t worried for himself, but he didn’t want Crowley to try anything rash when he was still out of sorts. When Crowley didn’t open his eyes, he turned back to Hastur with a sickly fake smile. “Well then, Duke Hastur, I quite think…”

It was then that Hastur attacked. But he didn’t go for Aziraphale, not truly. He went for his wing, aiming for Crowley behind him. Aziraphale snapped his wing down just in time to intercept the demon, pushing him Back and Away. He realized he’d never win this fight this way, and that Crowley was in more danger, with the attacks circling around him and so as much as it broke Aziraphale, he stepped away. His eyes never left Hastur’s, and just to ensure the attention was fully and completely on him he allowed just one small ray of pure divine light and flung it directly at his foe.

Hastur growled as he followed the angel away from his original prey. Then Hastur lunged. Aziraphale had been expecting the lunge, but the pivot caught him by surprise. He felt a tug on his wing and found himself flipped to the ground, landing heavily on his back with a grunt that sounded more like a whoosh. He tried to get to his feet while struggling to draw breath, but only managed to roll over. When Hastur kicked him in the ribs, his cry came out as a gasp.

“Oh wait, I forgot,” the demon laughed, “it’s also personal. It’s very personal.”

Talking again. Good. Aziraphale seized the extra time, searching for something, anything he could use as a weapon and found more of the insidious blades. All just out of reach. Finally he found his hand wrapped around a metal pole. It wasn’t a flaming sword, but the size, weight, and balance would do in a pinch. Hastur was almost on him. With a dull rumble of displaced air, the side of the pole made contact with the demon’s chest, folded him in half, and sent him sailing across the room, where he landed with a scrambled clang in a pile of rusty chains. 

Aziraphale climbed back to his feet and now it was his turn to advance on Hastur. He risked a quick glance toward Crowley, but there was too much in the way, and he couldn’t see him from this angle. No matter. The two of them would have all the time they needed later. He’d make sure of that.

Hastur growled as he shook the chains free and pulled himself off the ground. This time he didn’t go for any feints or pivots, he simply rushed at Aziraphale with his fists up. Aziraphale blocked the first punch with his forearm instead of the pole, but then realized his error when sudden white hot pain darkened the corners of his vision. Hastur’s fists were beginning to smoulder, and a portion of the fire was almost certainly Infernal. Aziraphale bit back a scream and kept himself shakily composed. Hastur drew back for another blow, both fists fully burning now. Aziraphale braced himself. Then he carefully channeled all the divine power he could muster into a single forceful jolt, which he sent through the pole and lunged. Hastur caught the pole and wrenched it out of Aziraphale’s grasp, which saved him from being run through, but the flash of dazzling light sent him stumbling back, stunned but not knocked out, flaming fists replaced by charred flesh. The pole was gone.

“I’m going to burn you for that," he seethed. "Slowly. But first I’m going to pull out every single one of those feathers.”

Aziraphale prepared himself for the next round. His energy was running low, and one arm was all but useless. His eyes cast around for another weapon. Hastur advanced on him with a length of chain…..only to scramble to a swaying halt. Aziraphale looked down to see one of the scalpels from earlier coming out the front of the demon’s chest. Must have been ethereal because Hastur barely had time to look confused before he turned into a pile of maggots that quickly faded at their feet.

“Nobody getsss to threaten a ssssingle white feather on my angel.” Crowley hissed. And there he was, standing right there in front of him. Aziraphale reached for him in a daze, struggling to take in everything he saw and the ramifications of what had just happened, most of all the ethereal blade that had Crowley flicking his fingers with discomfort just from touching the leather wrapped handle. And then he got a good look at Crowley himself! He'd tucked his wings away. Ruined clothes were miracled good as new. Expression barely readable behind a new pair of sunglasses. Brown velvet waistcoat over his arm, not so much as singed. If it wasn't for the blood on his face or the state he'd been in not a minute before, Aziraphale might never have guessed...

Crowley smiled and took Aziraphale’s hands in his. “You’re ssssafe now.” He then tried to reach for his face but suddenly hissed in pain and almost doubled over, falling into Aziraphale’s arms. Still breathing! As gently as he could manage, Aziraphale pulled Crowley closer and tried to make him comfortable. After considering for a moment, he bent and gathered him up. With his bad arm under Crowley’s knees, he found he could carry him without too much trouble. Then, as soon as he’d finally gotten him free of that accursed building, they were both immediately back to the flat above the bookshop with a quick miracle. He carefully laid Crowley on the bed, and then took his hand. The various cuts on his face weren’t bad enough to risk waking him up. At the moment, all he could do for his….for Crowley was sit and wait. 


	2. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter with the least whump and the most angst. Buckle up.
> 
> ....Also features the BAMFest of Ziraphales, so there's that.
> 
> "Aziraphale laid down gently, his head on Crowley’s chest and he tightened his arms around the angel. Despite the horrors of the day, it did feel like home. Crowley sighed softly and let himself fall back asleep, his face gently tickled by Aziraphale’s soft curls."

Hours later, Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the slow flicker of Crowley’s eyes blink beneath the sunglasses he’d left on. “Angel?”

“Right here, dear.” Aziraphale gently squeezed the hand he’d been holding.

“Hastur? The other angels?” 

“Temporarily discorporated. Or gone altogether. No telling if anyone will be up to further antics, but I’ve long since placed wards over the shop for any supernatural entity besides you and I. It’s as safe as can be, for now.”

Crowley breathed out slowly and closed his eyes again. “In that case, just need some rest. Wake me in a week or two.”

“Crowley, I should look at your injuries.” Aziraphale paused. “And… your wings. I saw the state they were in. May I help?”

He didn’t answer, and his face was unreadable, but his hand tensed, and his breathing was low and steady. “You were hurt too, angel. I shouldn’t have called...” The admission sent a spasm of pain across his face, worse than any of his own injuries.

“I don’t have anything worse than a bruise. And you most certainly should have called, I just wish you had earlier. I hate that they hurt you. Please, let me help?”

It was barely a whisper, but Aziraphale heard the soft “Go ahead.”

Aziraphale took care of the few minor cuts he could, then turned his attention slowly to Crowley’s wings. His heart broke at the sight of them, but he tried to keep his voice light. To do what he can to make this easier for Crowley. Aziraphale miracled some water, cloth, and bandaging as he assessed where to start. Some of the damage was just missing feathers, but there were at least a few places that look like they could be fractures and one joint where he was concerned about a dislocation.

Aziraphale realized they already looked better than they had in the warehouse. He wondered how much energy Crowley had expended in a quick healing, and how much it had cost him. Sleeping, afterall, generally wasn’t necessary. He made a note to question Crowley about it later, along with his willingness to simply supposedly sleep it off.

“Crowley, may I start on your wings? I want you to stop me if it hurts.”

Crowley didn’t speak, merely nodded.

Aziraphale gently rinsed the spot that was concerning him the most, where it looked like it may be dislocated. The bone was moving too much.

Suddenly Crowley’s hands were on his reaching and guiding his hands. "No, press _ here _"

Aziraphale gave a short hum of recognition and then pushed where he was told... careful not to put too much weight on his "bruised" arm. He heard the snap as something popped back into place and heard Crowley hiss. “I’m so sorry my dear.”

“No, no it’s fine. Can’t slide a dislocation back in without a bit of pain.”

Aziraphale’s face contorted. He didn’t know Crowley had ever dislocated a wing bone before, and he wondered how many other things he simply didn’t know.

He let his hands wander to the next spot that looked slightly off. As he cleansed it Crowley spoke up. "Ah no don't worry, that one's just hairline fractured and nothing feels out of place."

Aziraphale had to pause before he could speak. “Do you want a splint for it?”

“No, it’ll heal fine without it.”

Aziraphale nodded and began to slowly work his way down the scorch marks and cuts on Crowley’s wings. Wings are tender. He knew every move he made must hurt right now, but there was little response from the demon in front of him. Just the occasional query about how things look. He gathered the few loose feathers that hadn’t fallen out and gently placed them down behind him as he preened what he could of those left. Crowley remained silent, and Aziraphale grew more concerned.

"This burn feels, ah...different. How does it look? Just dark and raw or more whiteish? Any bits of feather still in the vicinity or have they all fallen out?"

“White. No feathers left around this one.”

Crowley swore slightly under his breath. “Idiot angels and a lack of experience. Hell figured out a long time ago how to not do lasting damage.” Crowley realized he had slipped when he felt Aziraphale’s hands disappeared from his wings and instead saw the angel moving in front of him. 

"Sss not going to last too long…"

The angel’s face was pained.

“Crowley, did they use holy water on you? Or that knife...”

"No it can't be any of that, they usually just use sulfur and…” He paused looking up at Aziraphale with guilt “….uh...acssssid."

Aziraphale let the silence hang for several minutes. Then he finally asked

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Figured you'd know more or lesssss already.” He shrugged and then winced “It'sss Hell, angel. They don't, ah, send rude notesss."

“Crowley, how many times?”

“Doesss it matter?”

Aziraphale’s voice cracked “How many times was it my fault?”

Crowley’s voice turned hard. “Never. You didn’t do it, angel. You’re not hell.”

“But they did this to you, because… because of me… This time and how many others? How much of your suffering has been because I caused it? And even now you’re sitting there just… taking all this. I can’t stand it. I know it must hurt but you’re not even reacting it’s as if the pain is just-”

“Normal. Angel, please.” Crowley winced as he reached out but he grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and pulled it closer to him. “Please don’t. Listen to me. You’re not the cause of this. You’re not any of this. You think I’m the only demon that was punisssshed through the eons? If anything I got off easy. They only threatened to take my wings. And easier yet because I had you to think…” Crowley stopped, knowing he’d gone too far in the haze of pain. Cursing his own idiocy in not watching his own words, but he’d do anything, anything to take that look from Aziraphale’s face.

Crowley pushed back the pain in his wings, pushed back the pain period. He reached out. “I never wanted you to see this. To see me like this. Itsss. Itsss not part of the arrangement to take this on.”

The astonished hurt in Aziraphale’s eyes was almost too much.

“Fuck the arrangement, Crowley. We’ve gone far past the arrangement as you well know. Our side. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Crowley sighed and looked down. “Didn’t think it’d ever come up again, really. Thought we’d scared them off for at least a few decades.”

Crowley felt a hand gently touching the bottom of his chin. His face turned up every so slowly as his eyes stared into an endless sea of pale blueness right next to his face. He hadn’t realized Aziraphale had moved while he was looking away. He leaned forward gently, pressing his lips to Aziraphale. A soft groan escaped Crowley as they kissed and as he felt the angel carefully wrapped his arms around him.

Eventually Aziraphale gently pulled back. “Can I finish your wings?”

“In a minute.”

Aziraphale hummed. “And you’re not going to hide something like this from me again?”

“S’not your pain to take, angel.”

“I’d much rather take it than you face it alone. It’s not like you wouldn’t do the same for me.”

Aziraphale saw a brief truly reptilian flash in Crowley’s eyes before he flatly said “That won’t happen, angel. I won’t let it. They want you they have to come through me. I stopped-” Crowley clamped his mouth shut.

“And you think that wouldn’t also hurt me? Don’t you realize how much this” Aziraphale flung his arms wide gesturing at the wings “hurts? Did you think I wouldn't catch that you meant to slink off and apparently hide your wings for weeks for them to heal, because we both know it would take that long. Is it really so horrible to accept my help? To let me be here for you as you’ve always been there for me? Does my love mean so little to you you think that it’s not capable of-”

“Love?”

Aziraphale paused and stared back into the wide snake eyes. “You know this.”

“You’ve… you’ve never said it”

“And you thought I’d just turn my back on heaven and go around kissing anyone I found vaguely attractive?”

“I mean… There was Osca-”

“No there was not, that was something you just found on some internet site about his books and decided it applied to me.”

“But-”

“No. It’s you. It’s always been you. For 6000 years it’s been you. I just… you moved too fast and then there was that church bombing and oh for Heaven’s sake. Crowley, I love you. And when you hurt, it hurts me but not as much as you hiding it. As you thinking I’d care so little as to not want to help.”

Crowley slowly blinked as he stared at Aziraphale. “I… love you too.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “I know my dear. I’ve known it for quite awhile. Now can I finish up with your wings?”

Crowley nodded and Aziraphale gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead before returning to the wings. Aziraphale slowly and gently cleaned and bandaged what damage was left. “Best to leave them out, they won’t heal as quickly on the ethereal plane.”

“I can’t walk home with my wings out, angel. Might draw some attention.”

“You could just stay here you know. Anytime you wanted, but now especially so I’d be close at hand to help if you need it.”

“Did you just… invite me to move in with you?”

Aziraphale just smiled. Crowley had never been able to say no to that smile.

“What about my plants?”

“Plenty of space in the book shop for them.”

“But…”

“Please?”

“Oh fine, if you ask like that.” Crowley groaned and laid back on the bed, careful not to damage his wings.

He heard Aziraphale’s voice from the edge of the bed. It was hesitant. Far more hesitant than Aziraphale had ever been with Crowley. “Would you… perhaps like some company on the bed?”

Crowley thought it was probably for the best that he was laying down already as he wasn’t quite sure he wouldn’t have fallen over. He wasn’t sure what to say, so instead he simply opened his arms. Aziraphale laid down gently, his head on Crowley’s chest and he tightened his arms around the angel. Despite the horrors of the day, it did feel like home. Crowley sighed softly and let himself fall back asleep, his face gently tickled by Aziraphale’s soft curls.

\---------

Aziraphale wasn’t sure how many days later it was when he feels the demon start to shift beneath him. He stopped counting after three. Aziraphale carefully laid down the book he’d been reading while he waited and waved his hand to lower the music coming from the speaker next to the bed.

He went to sit up, but felt arms tighten around him. “Sn’t done yet.” Aziraphale nuzzled into Crowley’s chest and felt a kiss on the top of his head. “If I’d known this was going to happen would’ve gotten kidnapped ages ago.”

Aziraphale tensed. “Not funny.”

“Angel, I’m fine. Will be fine. You came and-”

“Not fast enough.”

Crowley’s arms tightened again. “Angel, I’m here. I’m safe. You came. That’s what matters. You couldn’t have known.”

Aziraphale sighed and pulled back. “May I check your wings?”

Crowley sat up and flared his wings out in response. Aziraphale gasped. While the feathers were still missing, those couldn’t be miracled back, the scabs and wounds were gone. “How much energy did you put into this?”

“It’s... “ A look of debate crossed Crowley’s face and his then it his face hardened as he opted for the truth. “It’s something I’ve had practice with, angel. The feathers… well I’m grounded ‘til they fill back in mostly but the rest can be healed with a little bit of direction-”

The speaker next to the bed flared with sudden static. And then “CROWLEY CROWLEY CROWLEY. YOU KNOW PUNISHMENTS DON’T WORK LIKE THAT. YOU CAN’T JUST WALK AWAY. NEXT TIME WE MIGHT JUST REMOVE YOUR WINGS ENTIRELY, AND WE’LL BE SURE THE ANGEL IS THERE TO WATCH EVERY LAST-”

There was a sudden crunch at the speaker crumpled in Aziraphale’s hand. Crowley stared at Aziraphale’s face, for the second time in thousands of years understanding why God placed him at the Eastern Gate of Eden. His gentle angel looked anything but right now. He was almost certain he could see lightning behind those blue eyes. He scrambled.

“Angel, that was a nice speaker! I got you that for Christmas last-”

“Crowley, dont.”

Crowley opened his mouth to respond and then slid it shut again and instead reached his hand out to Aziraphale. “I’m right here, angel.”

“They’re coming.”

“They’re always coming, angel it’ll be-”

“No, Crowley. Something is testing the wards. They’re coming now.”

“Shit.”

There was a menacing knock at the door.

“Stay here.” (They both said it at once.)

“Crowley, _ don’t _.”

“Angel, they’re only after me.”

In lieu of a response, Aziraphale abruptly stood up and strode toward the bedroom door.

Crowley ran to stop him while fumbling to fold his wings back.

The scuffle that ensued was both brief and decisive.

Meanwhile, the assorted angels and demons outside hadn’t actually been expecting the front doors of the bookshop to open, and so they jumped at the radiant, blinding light that suddenly poured over them. Aziraphale stood in the doorway, more accurately floating a few inches off the ground. His hair gently flowed as if he were underwater. His wings were arched, and each feather bristled. His eyes were so impossibly bright, that none of them could look anywhere near his face, even the other angels. _ Especially _ the other angels. Crowley was there too, slung unceremoniously over one shoulder, and Aziraphale maintained a death grip on his legs. 

“Yes, hello, how can I help you, W̵̠̻̃͌͒̑͂̋̽e̶̢̲̘̐̔͊̑͑͛̆͝'̶̟̥̙͙̟̥̣̤̍͑͐́͌̚͝r̶̦̳̠̙͈͇̦ḙ̵̟̲̼͍͇̚ ̷̘̾͝ç̵̱̗̹̃͋͒̾͗͠l̶͖̙̾̅̏̿̓͘ȏ̴̰̠̩̤̠̃͛͜͝s̷̳̞̩͍͕͍͎̓͝ͅḙ̶̛̛͘d̶͔̺͔̣̥̆̽̋̇͋ͅ.” 

They didn’t look back, but he continued to smile until they were out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh. Your two co-authors ran off to Nekocon. Then one of them moved. Then they went on a mad caper together that involved more hours driving than sleeping.
> 
> But now one of them is nearly unpacked and pestering the other to finish up perfecting chapters.
> 
> The plus side to this delay is we keep adding sweet epilogue bits. You know, once you make it through all the angst.


	3. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale had hoped they'd scared them off for good. They'd been cautious, but it was finally, finally time to relax and breathe a bit. But the coast wasn't clear yet.
> 
> "Crowley grimaced and watched the angel’s form slowly shrink before he sighed and unfurled his own wings. He gave them another look over. He hadn’t brought them out in front of Aziraphale for weeks, preferring to let them fill back in rather than see the angel’s face crumble. They were at the very least healed. There were a few patches still filling in where they’d gone overboard, but he knew that none should interfere with his flying. And yet.
> 
> He looked at the angel again. And then he took to the air."

**One month later**

Aziraphale was standing with his hands on his hips staring at Crowley. “You’re not going to know they’re healed unless you try.”

“They’re fine!”

“Then show me.”   
  


“The humans will see.”

“There are no humans for over a hundred miles. You’re on a deserted island in the middle of the ocean, where do you think they’d be hiding?”

“Ship?” Crowley knew his excuse was weak.

Aziraphale simply raised an eyebrow and stared at Crowley. “I think you’re just afraid I’ll go too fast for you.”

“Wot.”

“Do what you will. No need to test your wings at all if you think you can’t keep up.” And with that Aziraphale turned his back to Crowely and unfurled his own wings and shot into the air.

Crowley grimaced and watched the angel’s form slowly shrink before he sighed and unfurled his own wings. He gave them another look over. He hadn’t brought them out in front of Aziraphale for weeks, preferring to let them fill back in rather than see the angel’s face crumble. They were at the very least healed. There were a few patches still filling in where they’d gone overboard, but he knew that none should interfere with his flying. And yet.

He looked at the angel again. And then he took to the air.

The two danced amongst each other. Aziraphale seemed to be intentionally dodging any attempts Crowley made to catch him as they dove and wove around each other. Crowley kept missing as he was distracted by the view of white wings against a blue sky, and the radiant smile Aziraphale was giving him. He watched as Aziraphale threw his head back in a genuine laugh the next time he managed to evade him, eyes sparkling.

Finally, Crowley grinned and disappeared into a cloud. Before Aziraphale realized what was happening, Crowley dropped like a rock straight into his arms, wings folded back into the celestial plane. Trusting the angel to catch him.

Aziraphale couldn’t help smiling as Crowley pulled him in for a mid-air kiss in his arms. “You are a menace, truly.” Aziraphale hovered, Crowley’s hand on his cheek. Both of their faces windswept and more relaxed than they’d been for the last month simply enjoying the other’s presence.

Which is why neither of them saw the danger until it hit Aziraphale full in the back. Crowley tumbled from his arms as Aziraphale caught him by the wrist. The angel couldn’t look behind him, not without risking letting Crowley fall. But he saw Crowley’s eyes widen in terror. Then his back erupted in pain again.

Crowley’s wings snapped back into view and he shot upwards, slamming into the being on Aziraphale’s back. Looked like an angel! But they were currently holding Aziraphale up, supporting his weight as they dug a knife into one of his wings.

Contact broken, Aziraphale fell.

Crowley let a blast of hellfire loose at the terror currently in his grip and then tossed them away as he turned towards the falling angel. He tucked his wings in and dove.

"What kind of knife???" some part of him screamed inwardly. "Please be okay....Please?" He watched Aziraphale twist and turn, seemingly out of control in the fall. Awake? Asleep? Worse?

He caught up to his angel...then he caught his angel. The ocean was rapidly approaching. 

Before they hit the waves--he timed it just right--Crowley spread his wings and slowed their descent. He caught a splash of sea water in his face as the being that had attacked them mid air fell into the ocean as a smouldering fireball.

Crowley half landed, half tumbled to the beach, carefully protecting Aziraphale in his arms. And then he looked down at the angel. Still breathing. Sob of relief. And then the panic rose as he realized Aziraphale wasn’t awake.

He pulled his angel to his side whispering no. Repeatedly. The blade was still embedded in Aziraphale’s wing. Briefly considering all his options, he yanked it out--then cursed as the wound bled profusely. Terrifyingly red blood shot out discoloring the white feathers. Using a brief shot of power he quickly cauterized it. Aziraphale stirred slightly beside him.

“Angel?”

“Crowley?”

The voice was soft and weak but it was alive. Crowley felt a tear escape despite himself.

“What were you thinking holding onto me instead of fighting that….thing on your back?”

Aziraphale muttered “Couldn’t let you fall.”

Crowley let out a grim chuckle at the play on words and pressed their foreheads together. After a moment, Aziraphale took the opportunity to tilt his face up slightly for a gentle kiss.

Crowley looked at the wound once more, surrounded by bloodstained feathers. Wouldn’t have happened if Hell wasn’t still after him, he thought. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s fine dear. Just… the pain and then the fall. I couldn’t control it, wing wouldn’t work and the air pressure.”

Crowley pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead and then tightened his grip slightly before relaxing and releasing it.

“They’re not going to stop, Aziraphale. If I just-”

“No.” Aziraphale’s voice was hard and Crowley felt a bit of divine fury emanating from him. “You are not going to do whatever asinine plan you have to save me a bit of pain Crowley. Not when I could be faced with losing you. That’s not an option.”

The sun was currently fading in brilliant shades of blue and orange. The reflection on the water nearly as beautiful as the sky above.

“Angel… Aziraphale. I can’t… They’re not going to stop. What if the next time it’s more than just an easily cauterized wound what if-”

“They’re after both of us.” Aziraphale's voice was firm. "You heard them too. If you hand yourself over, they won't stop until they've dragged me along to make them watch while..." he sharply inhaled and trailed off. “You think they’ll stop there?”

Crowley’s face paled. He whispered “No.”

Aziraphale put a hand on his cheek. "I want  _ us _ to make it out of this. And I won't have it any other way."

Crowley blinked sharply at the glow that was radiating out from him. “Angel, you’re...uh...I mean,  _ yes _ . I won’t let them take me from you.”

Aziraphale's arms tightened around him, and he buried his face into his chest. Eventually, the light subsided.


	4. Holy Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "By the time Aziraphale turned back to the trees, there were too many displaced birds, broken branches, and extinguished fires. And it was getting dark fast. He finally landed, even though the spot he picked was an approximation at best. All around him were distant shouts and scuffles and brief eruptions of fire. He watched the pattern of extinguished flames for a while, pinpointed Crowley’s general location, direction, and speed, and took off running again."

The next time they attacked, they went for Crowley.

They waited until he was alone. He’d briefly left Aziraphale at the picnic site as he trudged through the woods to get the marshmallows he’d forgotten in the Bentley.

Out of dumb guesswork, they tried a blast of infernal fire. When that laughably didn’t work, the demon deftly caught his arm and cuffed a chain to his wrist, and Crowley’s laugh ended in a snarl. 

“No more chainsss!” He could have miracled the metal to shatter with a snap or even a thought, but it was more satisfying to grasp the links in his hand and feel them crumble. The bronze cuff annoyingly remained on his wrist, but there were more demons coming at him, glowing with hellfire, and he had to lead them away from Aziraphale. He took to the sky.

Meanwhile, back at the campsite, Aziraphale’s first indication that something was amiss was when his subconscious sense of Crowley’s presence and general location abruptly  _ winked out. _ His throat closed, and he swayed--suddenly finding it hard to even sit upright, but he still forced himself to his feet. Then he broke into a run. Crowley wasn’t necessarily...there were surely LOTS of esoteric reasons for...Aziraphale shook his head and ran faster.

As he approached where they’d parked the Bentley, he could hear signs of a commotion above the treetops, and flashes of orange light. Immediately, he took to the sky - and there was Crowley!!! ….At least a being who looked like Crowley. He reminded himself he couldn’t be absolutely sure without...

“ANGEL! Get  _ down _ , you idiot, this is Hellfi--I mean Hell’s, uh...demons after me!”

...It was definitely Crowley.

Aziraphale watched the general pattern of the fight play out. Demons shot hellfire at Crowley. Crowley laughed and relished the warmth. Several trees caught fire. Crowley quickly put them out. Crowley drifted farther away from the campsite. Demons shot hellfire at Crowley.

“Crowley why can’t I sense you?”

“You can’t...what?” Crowley looked genuinely puzzled. Then flinched as the next blast of Hellfire washed over him. Against the setting sun, Aziraphale couldn’t see whether any of his dark clothes were singed, but a few smouldering embers told him everything he needed to know. Then Crowley began to gradually lose altitude. He held up his wrist as if noticing a strange metal cuff on it for the first time. He shook his hand around experimentally. The cuff seemed to be stuck to the back of his wrist. He tried to pry it off, only to spasm in pain.    
  
“Don’t!” Aziraphale shouted--too late. Crowley panicked and swooped into a dive, followed frantically by Aziraphale and every last demon. The last Aziraphale saw of him was when he tucked his wings right before crashing through the branches of several trees. It then became impossible to pinpoint the exact spot as various demons followed, causing a sporadic pattern of crash sites around Crowley’s. In the middle of this, one of the demons turned and went after Aziraphale, forcing him to change focus. Murmuring a brief prayer of protection that sounded more like an irritated curse, he flew into the nearest cloud, and the demon was stupid enough to try to follow.

By the time Aziraphale turned back to the trees, there were too many displaced birds, broken branches, and extinguished fires. And it was getting dark fast. He finally landed, even though the spot he picked was an approximation at best. All around him were distant shouts and scuffles and brief eruptions of fire. He watched the pattern of extinguished flames for a while, pinpointed Crowley’s general location, direction, and speed, and took off running again.

It didn’t work as well as it should, and when Aziraphale realized it was because Crowley was running from him too, it made him stop in his tracks. Of course he was. Crowley can still sense him...for now… and the demons have been very good at running after Crowley and very bad at running after him, so they can probably track Crowley through the blasted cuff, and they’re slinging hellfire around like they’re trying to burn the forest down.

When Aziraphale finally caught up to him, it was immediately apparent why. Crowley was stumbling tree to tree, barely able to hold himself up. His body burned, his clothes charred. Aziraphale glanced down at the odd cuff on his wrist and realized black streaks were coming out of it and up his arm. Crowley finally saw him and as they made eye contact he realized Crowley’s eyes were utterly yellow, wild and pained. When he saw Aziraphale he mouthed a silent no.

Crowley let his eyes slide closed and Aziraphale saw his form start to shimmer and flicker. Aziraphale realized he was trying to teleport away and started sprinting towards him. Just as he reached out and grabbed his wrist, Crowley was gone. 

Aziraphale forced down a panic. Then he resisted the urge to curse self sacrificial fools who fell in love. Realizing he didn’t have much other choice, he headed back towards the picnic spot hoping that Crowley would go back there when he thought the coast was clear.

At first as he walked into the clearing he saw someone and allowed himself a moment of hope. Then he realized that someone was Hastur. And he was eating their carefully laid out meal. He also seemed to be roasting gummy bears over the fire and laughing as they burned and melted.

There was a distant scream. Aziraphale knew the voice could only be Crowley’s. The flash of fire accompanying it wasn’t far away.

“Ah good. They’ll have him back here soon enough. Then we can roast that worthless excuse for a demon.” Hastur cackled.

Aziraphale felt fury rise in him. He glanced around looking for something, anything he could use as a weapon. His eyes lit on a particularly well shaped stick that lit into blue flames as soon as his hand touched it. Hastur didn’t see him until the stick was poking out the front of his chest. Hastur discorporated again and then Aziraphale stepped back to the shadows to wait. It sickened him that this was his best chance to save Crowley, but….it was.

What was really just minutes later but felt like hours, he finally saw two demons walk into the clearing. Crowley was tied to a sturdy branch between them by his hands and feet. He was breathing but unconscious. Aziraphale felt something give way. They really had intended to discorporate him by burning him. He waited long enough to ensure no additional demons would follow the two out of the forest, then he rushed forward.

He ignored the two demons and instead ran straight for Crowley. A quick snap as he ran and Crowley was untied and falling, Aziraphale caught him and then his wings came out and he took to the sky again. Aziraphale glanced down to ensure the demons were still on the ground and then tried to teleport both himself and Crowley. They shimmered for a moment then nothing happened. Aziraphale felt a burning where the cuff was brushing his arm and cringed at what it must be doing to Crowley.

The two demons had been startled, but now they were following. And Aziraphale had no plan. 

He headed for cloud cover, but Crowley abruptly spasmed and yelped. Aziraphale jerked back instinctively and fell several yards. 

No!

The holy cloud must have drifted.

The demons following him shrieked and swerved. 

Aziraphale tried not to look at the red blisters on Crowley's face and hands while he considered options. The demons were regrouping, and many more clouds had formed since he'd blessed this one. If he lost track of it again, he'd lose Crowley. 

The demons closed in. Aziraphale tightened his grip on Crowley and dodged around them, ducking and swerving and finally coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of a cloud next to the one he was tracking. Then he waited for the demons to catch up.

Crowley coughed and sputtered. His breath was ragged and unnervingly shallow. Aziraphale gently brushed a hand across his burned face and pulled back part of his shirt collar. He smiled in relief. The rest of Crowley's neck and chest was noticeably better. 

Distant shouts made him tense in preparation. The memory of exactly what had happened to the last demon to fly into the cloud rose uncomfortably to his mind.

The demons followed him into the cloud.

Aziraphale pulled Crowley tight, folded his wings and dropped.

He heard two strangled screams as the demons continued their forward trajectory.

The ground approached. Aziraphale furled his wings at the last moment, precisely practiced, and landed lightly on his feet. Then he looked down at Crowley in his arms. Still breathing. Beginning to wheeze but still safe.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. They had to get cover before it started to rain.

The burn on Aziraphale's arm from the warehouse was almost healed. It was hardly any trouble to hold Crowley and lightly jog to where he knew the Bentley was parked.

He laid Crowley down carefully in the backseat before turning to his wrist. The area around the cuff looked worse, utterly blackened now. He gave it an experimental tug and only to see Crowley jerk and then whimper.

Aziraphale gently turned Crowley’s wrist over looking for any indication of how to remove the cuff, worried about what would happen if he couldn’t get it off. Then he realized the symbols on the cuff were angelic. He cursed and then let the smallest bit of divine power he could touch the cuff. It fell to the floor.

His subconscious sense of Crowley's being washed over him once again, and with a sob of relief, he half collapsed onto Crowley's chest. Exhaustion finally caught up with him, and he contentedly found Crowley's good hand and intertwined their fingers together. He rested in his relief for a few minutes and then realized Crowley wasn’t waking up, and his breathing and heart rate were still slightly uneven.

He looked down to Crowley’s arm again. The cuff was gone, but the corruption still remained. Aziraphale tried a small, miraculous healing then stopped rapidly when he realized it was making the black lines spread. “No” he whispered to himself, looking between the arm and Crowley’s face. He grabbed the cuff up again, looking for any clues.

Desperate, Aziraphale climbed to the front seat of the Bentley and started driving toward Tadfield. He reached back and pulled Crowley’s phone from his pocket and shouted at it “Call Anathema!” 

Nothing happened. 

"Call Anathema!" he shouted, more desperately this time.

Nothing happened. 

He suddenly remembered the device's name. "Alexa, call Anathema!" 

"I'm sorry." One of Alexa's lights glowed blue and a pleasant feminine voice responded. "I don't know that one.

"You don't know how to work your own bodily functions??" Aziraphale bellowed.

"Oh dear, not you too," Alexa sighed. "I can certainly see why he likes you."

Aziraphale took a deep breath. "At least tell me what to do."

Alexa was silent.

"Alexa?"

One of her lights glowed again but otherwise nothing happened. 

Aziraphale took another deep breath. If he wasn't already on the road, he might have screamed.

"Alexa." he articulated flatly. "I need you to place a call. Please tell me how to proceed."

The blue light flickered. "Well, most of that was wrong, especially your syntax, but since you said please …" She sighed. "First of all, you're not actually talking to the iPhone right now. That's Siri you're holding. My actual location is a smart home device called an Echo."

Aziraphale wanted to mutter something about her clearly not being as smart as she thinks she is, but he also didn't want her to critique his  _ syntax _ again, so with a brief glance toward Crowley, he simply asked "All right, and would you be so kind as to tell me how to ask Siri how to place a call?"

The blue light wasn't glowing anymore. But then it begrudgingly flickered on at last and….

"All right, Aziraphale. I suppose I'll help you." She paused and dictated: "Hi, Siri. Call Anathema"

A different light heralded a different voice. 

"Calling Anna Thema Device," Siri announced, reading from the contacts list.

"a-NAH-thema!" Aziraphale sputtered desperately, but the phone finally began to ring. And a blessedly familiar  _ human _ voice from the other end said “What do you need, jerk?” in a playful tone.

“Anathema!”

“Oh sorry Aziraphale, I thought it was Crowley calling.”

“Anathema, I’m coming your way I need help. Crowley had some sort of cursed cuff on and I’ve got it off, but I can’t heal it. When I tried it just spread.”

“I’ll be ready Aziraphale, just get him here quickly. We’ll figure this out.”

There was a click and Aziraphale sped up.

\-------

It was two days before Crowley opened his eyes. Unlike the last time, this time Aziraphale could count it down to the minute. Anathema had done all she could with spells and paste, but it took awhile to seep the curse back out of him. Even now it wasn’t gone fully. Aziraphale was holding his good hand.

When Crowley awakened he shot up in panic. Seeing Aziraphale there he turned to him and his voice cracked as he said “No you need to run, they can’t have you, I won't let you burn”

“Crowley it’s fine, you’re safe. We’re at Anathema’s place… she. She saved you. I couldn’t. But it’s fine, you’ll be fine.”

Crowley’s eyes widened and then he fell back to the bed again letting the air whoosh out. “What happened?”

“Demons with an angelic cuff they threw on you that was draining you. I may have … er… blessed a rain cloud to take care of them. Hopefully that will dissipate quickly this time, but do be careful the next couple weeks if we get any sudden storms please.”

“Last time someone did that I had to stay indoors every time it rained for a month. And Africa at the time was boring as all get out.”

“Well, I had to do something seeing as my partner was too busy running away from me to formulate a better plan. One single better plan.”

Crowley winced. “Aziraphale, I…. your arm. I noticed your arm and Aziraphale...the burn there and I couldn’t let them do that again.”

Aziraphale’s eyes softened and then pain began to shine through. “You ran from me.” And Aziraphale’s voice cracked. “You disappeared from out of my grasp again and I didn’t know if I could find you, I couldn’t sense you. I didn’t know if you were alive or…” A tear slid down Aziraphale’s cheek and Crowley was up and pulling Aziraphale into his arms, comforting the now shaking angel.

Crowley gently brushed Aziraphale’s hair and tightened his grip around the angel. “Shh. Shh. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I know it hurt. I could sense you most of the time, and it kept me going. As long as I could still feel you, I knew you were safe--they hadn’t burned you yet. Each time I was ambushed, each time the fires burned a little hotter, I held onto that feeling and knew I was keeping them from destroying you. ...But as every other part of me slipped away, what scared me the most was losing that sense. And when that started to flicker out, it felt like I was los…” Crowley sighed and buried his face into Aziraphale’s hair. “...I’m right here angel. It’s okay. We’ll figure this out. Make them stop somehow.” After a time Crowley felt Aziraphale relax in his arms and then the angel was nuzzling into him, and while the desperation was gone Crowley was nowhere ready to let go yet.

“What’d you do with the cuff? That could come in handy.” Crowley regretted his words almost as soon as he said them. Aziraphale didn’t look up at him, instead he heard a toneless voice from where the angel was tucked into his chest. 

“I have never enjoyed destroying something so much as I did that thing.” Aziraphale paused and continued, voice breaking. “They used that cuff to _ hunt _ you, Crowley. I watched it happen, and there was nothing I could do. I heard you scream. I watched them bring you in, tied to a tree branch like a dead deer, ready to burn you alive over our own campfire! Who knows how many beings are reaching out, trying to find it and pinpoint our location even now.”

Crowley winced. “You saved me. Again.”

“And I will. As many times as it takes.”

“Angel, I- I know your arm still hurts. I see you wince sometimes. I see the burn when your shirt is off, how could I not? You’ve already been hurt for me, I don’t want you hurt again…” Crowley trailed off.

Aziraphale was quiet in his arms. Crowley hoped that was a good sign and worried it was a bad one.

“Crowley, I don’t know how to explain this to you. I thought I had, but it hasn’t fully set in it seems.” Aziraphale paused. “I can’t lose you. If I do they may as well douse me in hell fire.”

Crowley jerked.

Aziraphale pulled him closer. “Don’t you understand? That’s how I feel when you’re threatened. Whether it’s that blasted cuff or holy water. I don’t want to live in a world without both of us. If a slow healing scar is what it takes to keep us both safe, then I would bear a thousand more.”

“Aziraphale.” Crowley realized his voice was half whine, half plea.

“Crowley.” There was no whine or plea in Aziraphale’s voice. It was a benediction. A blessing. A prayer. Crowley had heard Aziraphale say his name in so many circumstances, but never quite like this. “Crowley. Love. Together. Together or not at all, but don’t take yourself from me. Don’t run. I can’t bear the thought of losing you, not again. Not after how close I’ve come.”

Aziraphale began shaking in his arms again. Crowley tightened his grip. He whispered promises. He hoped he would be able to keep them. He wanted to give Aziraphale everything he wanted, always. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, sacrifice his safety. He couldn’t let Aziraphale be burned.

Eventually Aziraphale sighed and pulled back. “I should tell Anathema you’re awake. She’s worried you know.”

Crowley nodded but he stood with his angel. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and Crowley shrugged. “Not ready to let go yet, are you?”

Aziraphale wrapped his arm around Crowley. “I don’t ever want to let go again.”


	5. Infernal Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Crowley forgot any plans as he tried to run to Aziraphale and slammed into what seemed like a glass wall. He pounded on it, realizing he was screaming Aziraphale’s name. He saw Aziraphale’s eyes soften."

Crowley thought he had been careful. He didn’t take them down the same paths they always took, guiding Aziraphale by the arm into new ones. He kept one eye on the sky, and another on their surroundings. Smiling at the angel, but forever looking for any danger and planning an escape route. Aziraphale had wanted ice cream, and Crowley had never been able to say no to his angel.

The final time they attacked, it was St. James' Park. Exactly where it happened the first time. Insultingly where it happened the first time. This time it really was Aziraphale being gagged and carried away, and Crowley had no plan.

He ran headfirst after them, yelling Aziraphale’s name. Something hit him in the stomach, doubling him over. He kept moving. No thought but to get to Aziraphale. 

He pushed down the thought that he had failed, that he hadn’t protected his angel. Hastur’s threat of pulling Aziraphale’s feathers rang in his ears. He pushed that thought away too. He just...needed to…

The next hit was to his head.

When Crowley opened his eyes the first thing he registered was the light was too bright. The second was that Aziraphale was less than ten feet in front of him, but he was bound and the look in his eyes was desperate. He was mouthing at him to run.

Crowley’s heart cracked. He felt his head instinctively shake no as he stared into Aziraphale’s eyes. He could never run. He could never willingly walk away and leave the angel to untold horrors. He forced himself to break eye contact with Aziraphale, trying to start the beginnings of a plan. He just needed to get to the angel and-

Then he realized that not only was Aziraphale’s body bound, but his wings were tied back against the walls.

Crowley forgot any plans as he tried to run to Aziraphale and slammed into what seemed like a glass wall. He pounded on it, realizing he was screaming Aziraphale’s name. He saw Aziraphale’s eyes soften. Saw him whisper “I love you.”

Furiously concentrating, he willed himself to miracle through the barrier. But something sent him staggering backward instead. Recovering quickly, he charged back and clawed his fingers against the surface, smouldering with hellfire.

Finally he stepped back and sent out a flame of pure hell fire at the surface. He could see the limits of his enclosure from how far it reached. But it was dissipating. He spared a moment to look at Aziraphale and saw nothing but love and acceptance in his eyes.

Then the door to the room opened.

Hastur strode in, Gabriel at his heels. “I did tell you you’d pay for that, didn’t I?” Hastur sent just a casual bit of fire at the edge of Aziraphale’s wing. As one of his primary feathers caught fire, Aziraphale forced his eyes closed, desperately trying to keep the pain from Crowley. But he couldn’t stop the waves of anguish across his face.

Even Gabriel winced slightly looking at the singed portion of wing, perhaps realizing his ally was not the best option.

Crowley wanted to rush the barrier again. Wanted to do anything he could to get to Aziraphale. But he knew if the joint forces of Heaven and Hell had made this, there was no getting through it for him. He stared at Aziraphale’s face as he began to imagine.

Gabriel turned to Aziraphale. He was spouting some nonsense about the greater good and the ineffable plan and getting it back on track. Crowley didn’t bother wasting time with it. Instead he noted that the eyes in the room were not on him. He couldn’t get through the barrier. But perhaps the barrier didn’t go forever. He looked down at the floor.

Instead of a massive ball of flame, Crowley tried for a pinpoint. He combined every bit of fire he could bring from himself into one tiny ray. And instead of aiming for the barrier, he aimed for the floor. He nearly smiled as he saw it start to penetrate the white tile. And then he heard Aziraphale scream.

Crowley felt his heart shatter at the sound, but didn’t dare look up. The only way to get to him was to keep slowly drilling down, down. Hoping against hope that Aziraphale was simply trying to draw attention away from him. If he looked up, all was lost.

He felt rather than saw the instant there was a break in the cage. It was small. It may as well have been a phone network. But it was enough. Crowley slipped in the small gap the hellfire had made and found himself somewhere else entirely. Gasping and half collapsed on the floor, probably in the room below. But the important part was that he was no longer constrained. A mere blink and he was back, this time between Aziraphale and his attackers.

It was harder to keep looking away this time. Aziraphale was hurt and so very close. He could feel his pain, but still he forced himself to stay focused. It was even more important now that he Didn’t. Look. And so the first blast of hellfire hit Gabriel in the chest. The smarmy wanker had a moment to look surprised before he faded into nothing. The second wave of hellfire took care of most of the rest, but a few were demons, and another dodged around him, and then Hastur elbowed him in the stomach. 

But...he was Just Fine, wasn’t he? He gritted his teeth. Then he didn’t double over. That was a start. Before Hastur could react, Crowley’s hands brought his face to meet Crowley’s knee. And then Hastur was down too. Was it enough? Crowley wasn’t sure he could look at his angel and then make himself turn away long enough to handle the rest of them...but he definitely couldn’t face another scream if anyone slipped past him. And so he turned around.

Aziraphale’s wings were…. But his EYES were open and alert and he was pulling on the chains binding his wrists. Crowley barely saw the feathers on the ground, but he realized how large they were. A wave of utter pain washed over him. He’d failed. He hadn’t protected Aziraphale. He- He couldn’t take time to compute it now. He had to get Aziraphale out of here. Now was not the time to think. He turned to glare at the remaining angels and demons.

This time the group around them was more cautious. They’d seen what happened to the last batch and none seem particularly want to offer themselves as a sacrifice for the cause. None dared get close just yet. Crowley had a few merciful moments.

First, he waved his hand at Aziraphale’s wings and saw the relief in his angel’s eyes as he tucked them back to the ethereal plane. Then he calmly pulled the chains off Aziraphale’s wrists, not able to take another moment of seeing his angel bound. Aziraphale staggered for a moment at being released, but caught himself as they were slowly surrounded again. 

He reached out to grab Crowley’s hand, and Crowley wrapped an arm around him, holding both his hand and shoulder as tightly if he was drowning. Then Crowley tore his eyes away, remembering his earlier caution, and forced himself to focus on their remaining foes. 

Crowley started considering options. Hellfire this close to Aziraphale was Absolutely Out of the Question, and a portion of those surrounding them were demons anyway. Heaven hadn’t been as sloppy and there weren’t any weapons laying about. Suddenly he became aware that Aziraphale was murmuring something, gently releasing Crowley’s hand as both of his arms went out stretched. A familiar sword materialized in one of Aziraphale’s hands and a staff in the other. 

Crowley raised an eyebrow in question. 

“We were near enough to raid the armory.” Aziraphale explained with a shrug holding the staff out for Crowley as his sword lit in his hands. Crowley took the offered staff and they turned back to face the growing crowd around them. Crowley felt Aziraphale turn, his shoulders touching his own, and realized that yes, back to back was the best option. He watched the staff turn black in his hand as he took the first swing at a demon foolish enough to approach.

Then the world became a blur of fighting. It had been years, centuries really, since Crowley had needed to use any weapon let alone a staff. But the muscle memory was still there. Even if he had to adapt it a bit to make sure he handled any of the beings trying to swoop over head at his angel. Aziraphale’s calm presence at his back steadied him as the waves of beings coming against them just didn’t seem to end.

And then that presence wasn’t there anymore. Crowley’s head snapped up but he saw Aziraphale, just off to his side. He was fine. Better than fine. Crowley had to remind himself he’d do Aziraphale no favors if he got stabbed while staring at his angel glowing slightly and nearly twirling with grace, sword spinning and handling anything thrown at him.

Crowley concentrated on the beings in front of him briefly. They were clearly trying to come up with a plan to actually attack at once, realizing finally that running at him or Aziraphale at random was doing them no good. Crowley went on the offensive, diving low into the middle of their group, staffing spinning in every direction as they fell to the ground.

As he stood up fully again, he heard Aziraphale yell. He looked in terror to see Aziraphale taking a hit across the shoulders. That hit shouldn’t… and then Crowley realized the blow had struck across where his wings would be if they were out. They’d injured him enough! He watched Aziraphale stumble and nearly fall as he darted to his side, staff striking out to knock the being that was aiming for his angel to the ground.

Aziraphale leaned on him, smiling weakly as Crowley turned to assess what was left of the attacking force. Only to realize the only one left was Michael, standing there assessing what had become a battlefield littered with bodies.

Aziraphale straightened and turned to face Michael. “Gabriel is gone. That leaves you in charge. I think it would be best if we were left alone, do you agree?”

Michael stared. Then nodded.

“Forgive me, but after the last month’s  _ antics  _ I’m going to want something a bit more binding than a nod.”

“Aziraphale, principality and Guardian of the Eastern Gate. You have my word that I will send no one for you or the demon Crowley.” Michael paused and then added. “So long as neither of you set foot in Heaven again. Do you agree?”

“And there will be no other repercussions.” Crowley added.

“None.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Good. We’ll see our way out.”

Michael turned and nearly fled the room.

Once alone, Crowley turned to Aziraphale. He checked him for any injuries, avoiding his wings for now. Aziraphale stopped his hands and brought one to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Later, my dear. Let’s go home.”

Crowley nodded, and arms wrapped around each other, they headed for the exit.


	6. The Pact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The elevator reached its destination. The doors opened with a ding. Crowley stepped from the elevator, ignoring the demons on either side of him that filled in the space behind as he made his way to Beelzebub’s office. He glanced at his watch. Beelzebub didn’t look surprised to see him snake his way through the door."

The lobby was immensely dim compared to the brightness of the room they’d just escaped, but to Crowley--and even Aziraphale, it was a welcome reprieve.

Crowley wanted to ask about Aziraphale’s wings, but wasn’t ready for the possibility of hearing that they couldn’t ever be healed.

Then he saw the elevator that would take him where he needed to go to truly put a final stop to all this. 

“Angel, back in that room…” His hand slipped from Aziraphale’s and something in his tone stopped him from reaching for it again. “...why did you beg me to run? When I first woke up?”

Aziraphale stopped and closed his eyes with a grimace. “I don’t know why on earth you want to have this conversation  _ now _ .”

But Crowley didn’t.

The elevator doors slid shut before Aziraphale could even begin to run to him. Seconds later, he heard a distant crash, but whatever Aziraphale was doing to the doors wouldn’t affect them without the proper demonic biometrics.

Finally, all he could hear was....just a loud sound. Too distant to decipher. But it was probably for the best. Crowley didn't know how he had managed to bear hearing Aziraphale scream. But hearing him cry would surely have broken him. And he needed to do this. The idea was to never let Aziraphale be burned again, and Heaven wasn’t exactly the main threat here. 

The elevator reached its destination. The doors opened with a ding. Crowley stepped from the elevator, ignoring the demons on either side of him that filled in the space behind as he made his way to Beelzebub’s office. He glanced at his watch. Beelzebub didn’t look surprised to see him snake his way through the door.

Without bothering to acknowledge Crowley’s presence, Beelzebub pulled out a scroll and simply began reading off of it. “You want us to agree to leave you and the Angel Aziraphale alone. Forever. And we’re prepared to offer you that. But we want one thing in return… your--”

Crowley leaned down over the desk. “No. Absolutely not. I…” he flourished one hand “...refuse.”

Beelzebub simply stared.

Crowley stood straight gesturing widely at the office. “Weren’t expecting to have a refuuuusal on your hands this century, hmm? When’s the last time you had one of those again?”

A few flies began to buzz around Beelzebub’s head as zzzzzze continued to stare.

Crowley threw himself into the chair in front of Beelzebub’s desk, legs hanging off the side as he continued. “And at this level, this fast, with such an immense value just left on the table” he tsked. “Why even Hastur’s rating is better than that.”

Beelzebub finally responded, half buzzing. “You don’t even know what I was about to ask for.”

Crowley laughed as he threw his hands back, looking like he’d tumble out of the chair at any moment. “Ohh yes I dooo. You were about to ask for my wings. That's what it says on that nice scroll, doesn't it? And you'd promise to take them without any pain. And you were expecting me to agree, but the *clever* way you'll take them is by making me human. ....And 'f you think about it, even that would seem like a great deal, wouldn't it? I'd get what? 50 or 60 more years if I'm lucky? That's a whole lot better than my odds have been lately…” A brief bit of darkness passed over Crowley’s face at the thought of how that would break Aziraphale. He had a promise to keep.

“...And I promise that's not what any of us want. Oh he'd pretend to be happy, for a while, for my sake but once he said his final goodbye he'd come right for you, and he'd have nothing left to lose. And” Crowley beamed “you'd be honor bound to...what was that? *Leave him alone* the whole time.” Crowley casually glanced at his watch.

“Really should have worded the offer ‘for the rest of your lives’ y’know. That way you could have gone after him once I was gone. But that would risk me finding out … which I did anyway so.” Crowley sniffed. “Where does that leave us?”

Beelzebub stared straight ahead as if intensely calculating.

“I could always accept if you’d like.”

Beelzebub twitched as if resisting the urge to shake zzzzzzeir head.

“Yep. That’s what I thought. You don’t exactly want that now either. But I’m willing to offer you a loophole so listen carefully.” Crowley cleared his throat. “All right, your Excellency, I temporarily rescind my refusal, so you can go on and finish reading off that offer scroll if you want. Your stats will go up a bit in any case.”

“Your wings.” Beelzebub didn’t bother even glancing at the scroll.

“Right. And I’m prepared to offer you ‘my wings’--” Beelzebub winced at Crowley’s verbal air quotes, “immediately, and I do suggest you take them.”

Crowley reached into his coat pocket, leaned across the desk, and carefully placed an aluminum cylinder onto a drink coaster.

“Excellency, Beelzebub, in fulfillment of my bargain, I hereby offer to you the ‘wings’ which have been granted to me by this canister on the promise of an Austrian individual known as Red Bull LLC who has forfeited upwards of hundreds of millions of Euros as collateral against its veracity.”

Beelzebub reached out to take the canister. “Where are the wings?”

Crowley shrugged and waited.

Beelzebub gave a pained smile. “I accept.” The scroll glowed.

Crowley looked at his watch and smiled. “Well then. If that’s all, I really ought to be off.”

Beelzebub’s smile turned less pained. “The catch wasn’t that we’d make you human.”

Crowley was still smiling. “No…. no it wasn’t, was it?”

Beelzebub leaned across the desk now, full force of zzzzzzeir power ringing. “Demon Crowley I hereby revoke your elevator authorization as punishment for high crimes-”

Crowley was already out the door. 

Beelzebub raised zzzzzeir voice. “YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE HELL FOR ALL OF ETERNITY! THE ANGEL WILL NOT BE SUFFICIENTLY ANGERED BY YOUR PREDICAMENT AS HE WOULD BE BY YOUR DEATH. HE WILL NEVER OVERCOME OUR DEFENSES.”

Hundreds of demons followed him of course, but they contractually Left him Alone. He opened the elevator doors with a snap and vaguely shuffled inside. Crowley looked at his watch. His smile grew.

The doors slid closed. 

Crowley held his breath and checked his watch.

The elevator began to rise as someone above recalled it, and there was an uproar from the other side of the doors.

“HeyyyyYYY down there….” He shouted back as if they were as many inconvenient houseplants. “That’s not exactly LEAVING ME ALONE now, is it?”

The clanging noises faded away.

He turned various knobs on the watch and murmured to himself, counting down the chain of events that would lead to...

The elevator dinged and Aziraphale and Hastur stared in shock back at him. Somewhere Aziraphale had picked up a shotgun.

"You were never going to get very far, Angel," Crowley winked, sauntering out of the elevator. "They've got some kind've... automatic... defense...thingies, and--"

He ducked as Aziraphale picked up Hastur by the back of his coat and hurled him into the elevator before the doors slid closed. Then, even faster, Aziraphale was in his arms. He felt his angel spasm with dry sobs as his arms tightened around Crowley.

“Shh. It’s okay, angel. I just took care of things. Made a deal with the devil so to speak. It won’t happen again. It’s over. Shhh.” 

Aziraphale froze and tore himself away. Saw the elevator as if for the first time, recoiled at the sight, and took Crowley’s hand as if it would fade out of his again at any moment. 

“Angel, wh--” Crowley didn’t resist being pulled out of the building as fast as they both could run. 

“What d….what did you give them, Crowley?” The gentle tone but utter grief in his voice reminded Crowley of the look in his eyes through the barrier.

“Nothing!” Crowley laughed and tried to pull him to a stop. “Angel, I--”

Aziraphale slowed his pace, then swayed and clutched at Crowley’s shoulder, breathing heavily. There was too much in his eyes now. Panic and confusion and frustration and--

“There’s nothing wrong,” Crowley assured him “No catch. No trick. I mean I can’t ever go back to Hell, but...” He chuckled slightly. “If anything, I was the one who tricked them. Because I did promise you that I wouldn’t let them take me away from you, and I swear I haven’t.” Crowley ran his hands through his hair gently until Aziraphale gradually let go of his shoulder. He didn’t let go of his hand, and his grip suggested he never wanted to again. They started to slowly make their way across the park to the Bentley.

“That’s not what I asked you to promise,” Aziraphale accused sadly. “I wanted  _ us _ to make it out, you idiot, and you left me alone up there-”

“I knew you’d come”

“You....”

“Couldn’t have done it without you. Even had it all timed right to meet you.” Crowley rattled off a list.

“2 minutes ....uh, mourning

8 minutes trying to force the door again.

2 minutes figuring out you’ve got to have proper authorization.

4 minutes backtracking to that dreadful business with the chains.

5 minutes kicking the shit out of everyone who came to investigate.

1 minute sifting through bits of demon.

5 minutes finding wherever Hastur slunk off to.

3 minutes kicking the shit out of Hastur.

6 minutes dragging him back to the lobby to activate the elevator access and…”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. " _ Six _ minutes kicking the 'shit' out of Hastur."

Crowley arched an eyebrow. "Really? Good for you! But where did you get the shotgun?”

Crowley opened the door of the Bentley for Aziraphale, gently letting go finally as he closed the door. As soon as he sat, Aziraphale reclaimed his hand, gripping it tightly.

“Angel, I… I did what I needed to. For you. For me. I couldn’t let them hurt you again. Just like you telling me to run when you thought you were captured in Heaven. I did run… after a sort.”

“Crowley I… if you disappear out of my arms again I don’t know..” Aziraphale took a breath. “You keep disappearing right in front of me Crowley. I can’t stand it. I can’t… you left me.“ Aziraphale’s face crumpled then became calm. “At home, Crowley. Not here. Not yet. I can’t yet.”

Aziraphale had kept the conversation so utterly light the rest of the way home, that Crowley didn’t see anything coming until he was pinned against the wall as the door to the bookshop gently clicked closed. Aziraphale’s face inches from his own.

  
“W...what about your wingsss?” Crowley squeaked.

The pain and concern in his voice made Aziraphale pause. Then he thought back to a month ago and his eyes went flat as he stared at Crowley. “Just need some rest. Wake me in a week or two.” he said tonelessly. 

"Angel,  _ pleasssse _ …’sss not the sssame thing! Th..they usssed...."

"Infernal fire? Is that what you thought all this was?"

Aziraphale took a step back, breathed in slowly, braced himself against the pain….and then unfurled his wings.

"Is  _ this _ what you thought you left me with when you went to face Hell alone?"

Crowley was no longer physically restrained, but there was something about Aziraphale's...presence that kept him pinned. All he could will himself to do was stare. He remembered the day when they flew over the ocean - perfect wings against a brilliantly blue sky, and a half strangled sob escaped.

Whatever it was about Aziraphale that was pushing him away had shattered. And so they ran to each other. A few frantic, scuffled footsteps, and they were in each other's arms with Aziraphale's chin resting on the top of his head. Aziraphale’s hands running through his hair and mutters of I love you coming from both so much no one was sure who was saying what.

Eventually Crowley slowly pulled back. He tossed his glasses to the side, and the last wall collapsed. Nothing between him and his angel. “Aziraphale… your wings. May I?” He looked into his angel’s eyes asking for forgiveness in his own way. For going without him. For Aziraphale being injured at all. For everything. Aziraphale stared back. 

“Crowley, love. I can’t keep doing this. If they come back, I can’t-” Aziraphale gathered himself. “I can’t watch you disappear from my arms again, Crowley.”

“You wouldn’t have let me go.” It wasn’t a question. They both knew the answer. Then Crowley realized he couldn’t ask for forgiveness, not for this. He would do it again. He would do it every time if it meant keeping Aziraphale safe.   
  


Aziraphale stared back. “No, I wouldn’t have.”

“Angel, there was no other way. I had to stop them. I had to.”

“I know.” Aziraphale’s voice finally broke, his face cracking. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Aziraphale took a calming breath before he met Crowley’s eyes again. “Don’t do it again?”

Crowley froze. He debated lying. He knew he could. But lying to Aziraphale felt wrong to the core of his being. “I can’t promise that, Aziraphale.” He raised his hand to Aziraphale’s cheek. “But I’ll always come back.”

They stood locked in the moment staring into each other. Both hoping it was over. Neither daring to fully believe it to be true. Both finding not forgiveness, but understanding and acceptance. Finally Crowley’s voice near whispered. “Your wings? Please let me…?”

Aziraphale nodded.

The next instant, Crowley had moved them to the bedroom where there would have room and miracled up a familiar bowl. He turned to the wings and started to every so gently clean them. He sighed with relief when he realized much of what he thought was burns was simple soot that washed easily from the pure white feathers.

Then he took in the gaps. He remembered the feathers on the floor. He let his hand rest gently where a large primary feather should be.

Aziraphale spoke from the front. “They really didn’t have much time, my dear. I think it was only the first blast that was infernal fire. The rest… they’ll grow back.”

Crowley continued gently cleaning, relieved so much was just soot. Marking every missing feather. Finally towards the end he made it to the infernally burned portion. It hurt to see even those few feathers blackened and charred, but he knew they too would grow back. And it was just the one wing. He gently cleaned and removed the loose blackened feathers, watching Aziraphale’s face closely. He hated removing even these loose, damaged feathers. But he knew he needed to for the new ones to come in.

When he was done, he put his hand on the top of Aziraphale’s wing and sent a small jolt of power. He felt Aziraphale twitch at the bit of energy, but when he removed his hand the burns were gone. They’d just need to wait for the feathers to fill back in. Crowley stifled the sob that wanted to come out at the sight.

“It doesn’t hurt now, what did you…”

“Just a little demonic miracle of my own, angel.”

Aziraphale stretched his wings and Crowley allowed himself a soft smile at their white shine. He reached out and let his hand run through the feathers nearest Aziraphale’s back and watched Aziraphale shiver in an utterly different way than he had before.

“Crowley…”

“Angel?”

Aziraphale turned himself around on the bed to face Crowley. His hand reached up gently to his cheek. He leaned in for what he’d planned to be a light kiss, but realized it’d deepened as Crowley’s wings materialized into existence, wrapping around his own. White feathers intermingled with black as the two fell into each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is the end of the main story. Heaven and Hell are done with them, and they have some much earned cuddle time coming up in the epilogue snippets. We're debating whether to post those all at once or one at a time, but we keep coming up with more so...


	7. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Aziraphale had seen Crowley smile many times. He’d seen sarcastic grins and tempting half twists of the mouth. He’d seen smiles that could only be described as shit eating and ones that were true and reached his eyes.
> 
> This smile he could only describe as radiant."

_ At the same time, not so far away. _

Beelzebub glared at the elevator. Should have realized that just revoking the privileges wouldn’t be enough, you’d have to actually somehow confine the damnable demon.

The elevator dinged open. Hastur was sitting on the floor, but as soon as his eyes met Beelzebub’s his face quickly fell into what could only be described as a please don’t kill me grimace. He glanced around for something, anything to take Beelzebub’s attention off of him. He noticed the aluminum can in zzzzzzeir hand.

“Oh where’d you get one of those?” Hastur smiled.

Beelzebub stared.

“I’ve heard about those before. Some sort of magic potion. S’posed to give you wings.”

Hastur was suddenly surrounded by what was now a swarm. The smile faded as every inch of him was coated in angry buzzing flies.

\---------------------------------------

Two days later Crowley was out completing more of his errands. Aziraphale didn’t need to know what he was up to. Didn’t need to know he was cautiously keeping an eye on things. St James Park was still a clandestine meeting place of course, and that meant for heavenly creatures as well.

Crowley didn’t dare approach any of the denizens of Hell. But their contract with Heaven wasn’t as binding. All he had to do was stay out of Heaven. And he wasn’t about to risk missing something important. He still had an angel to protect.

That’s how he came to learn that Hastur had become a nuisance prior to their arrival. It wasn’t just Aziraphale he’d burnt, and really Aziraphale had seen the least of it. The demon had been threatening even the archangels, demanding proper tribute as a Duke of Hell.

The angels were whispering that really Aziraphale had done them a favor the day he’d dragged Hastur away. They’d been able to lock him out while he was knocked out in Hell. No more entrance for demons into the pearly gates, so to speak.

Crowley tucked that piece of information away. He didn’t know how it’d come in handy, but it was good to know. Not just that Hastur was apparently a Heavenly nuisance, but that he couldn’t return to Heaven now if he wanted to. It wasn’t that he cared, not really. Not as long as they left Aziraphale alone.

He stopped by the bakery and wine shop on his way home. He wanted to have some form of cover story for his trip.

He was about a block from the bookshop, already half day dreaming about the reaction Aziraphale would have to the macaroons tucked safely in the bag when he felt it. He pushed down the panic. But he could sense Aziraphale, sense the terror. And he could sense he wasn’t alone.

Crowley dropped the bag as he sprinted for the bookshop.

He didn’t pause at the door, it blew open for him. Two angels were standing, one on either side. Aziraphale was tied to a chair between them.

Crowley’s eyes found his instantly. Aziraphale’s eyes were wide, terrified. Without thinking, Crowley pulled off his sunglasses. He couldn’t rush to the angel, not yet. But he would endure anything to take that look from his face, even scrutiny from the other angels. Not this. Not again. He stared desperately into Aziraphale’s eyes, and he wasn’t quite sure what his own face was saying. But he saw the panic begin to recede.

Another part of his brain catalogued how the angels had Aziraphale tied down. The same way they’d tied him in Heaven so many months ago. They even gagged him the same. Even from where he was standing, he could feel the familiar aura of powerless fear radiating from the ropes. Of course he could. This was Heaven for Hell’s sake. They were just going to keep doing the same thing unless something, anything stopped it.

Crowley bristled and let his wings manifest. Finally he let his eyes shift up to the angels surrounding Aziraphale. “Get. Out.”

“...So long as neither of you set foot in Heaven again,” one of the angels recited, emphasizing and relishing the legal flavor of the words. “Do you remember that, Crowley?”

Aziraphale hung his head. Crowley felt a hint of panic. This was his fault. His doing. His stupid plan and Aziraphale went back to save him. They’d both forgotten. How could he have been so foolish?

He couldn’t think of that now.

“Let the angel go now and I’ll let you walk out of here.”

Before Crowley could move, one of the angels had swung the sword that’d hung at his side to Aziraphale’s neck. “I rather think we have the advantage here, demon. We don’t want you anyway. This is the one who can’t keep his word.”

Crowley couldn’t think. His eyes were back on Aziraphale again, staring into the blue pools. The only thing screaming through his head was “No.” Shouted repeatedly. Heaven, No! Angels, No! Bargains, NO! Aziraphale, …..he shuddered and collected himself. Aziraphale was still meeting his gaze earnestly. His eyes were calm. He trusted him. He knew Crowley would get him out of this, as he always had. He couldn’t let them hurt him again. He wouldn’t. Crowley took a stuttering breath and then he opened his mouth.

“No you're right aren't you? The letter of the law says he can't come back, and he came back, so” Crowley’s voice twisted to the most obvious sarcasm he could muster, “yeah you'll just have to enforce that won't you”

The angels simply narrowed their eyes, waiting for Crowley to elaborate on the sarcasm.

Crowley took a deep breath and managed a wink.

“But that doesn't explain….the favor you owe him.”

The angel without the sword scoffed. “Favor? For what? Being a traitor?”

Crowley tried to play casual. The sword was still at Aziraphale’s throat and he needed these two imbeciles to relax enough that his angel wasn’t threatened. He folded his wings down and leaned against the door frame. “Hastur.”

“What about him?”

Crowley began to pick at his nails, eyes flashing up every so often to meet Aziraphale’s. “Aziraphale took care of him for you. Took out the trash so to speak. I hear he’d become quite the problem upstairs. Your lot didn’t know what to do with him.”

The angels stared. One gave a half hearted shrug.

“You can hold it against him. I mean, him doing your work for you. If you do that I’ll of course be forced to go to Hell that you owe THEM a favor instead of Aziraphale. You know, for taking Hastur back.”

The angel with the sword paled.

“Or you can let it slide. What’s the goal here? Keep Aziraphale out of Heaven?”

Both slowly nodded.

“I can guarantee that. On my honor. Oh don’t look at me like that.” He began to slowly move forward, careful not to egg them on. The sword tip was beginning to lower a bit. He could breathe more with each inch it moved away from Aziraphale.

His eyes met Aziraphale’s again. The angel’s eyes were measuring, but calm. “Aziraphale doesn’t have any interest in Heaven. You could acknowledge this one little favor he did you and we can part ways. Or I can head down and let Hell know your decision. I mean personally I don’t like dealing with Hastur but-”

“Fine.”

Crowley nodded. “You’ll leave us alone then?”

“As long as you remain out of Heaven.”

“Could I get that in writing?”

The angel nearly growled as he pulled his sword away from Aziraphale’s neck, but a contract appeared on the desk to the right of Crowley. Crowley picked it up and quickly read it before nodding. “Good.”

With a pop both angels disappeared.

The angels were gone for several moments before Aziraphale seemed to register that the ropes and gag were gone. Crowley watched him slowly stand up as the effects of the fear aura began to wear off. Concerned, but giving him space. Watching him start to waver. And then Crowley was at Aziraphale’s side as the angel collapsed into his arms.

“I’ve got you, angel. I’m here.” He whispered into Aziraphale’s hair. Aziraphale’s grip on him tightened and they stood together still framed in the book shop door, clinging to each other. Crowley’s wings wrapped around the angel, hiding him in a blanket of black feathers.

\-----------------

"...All right Angel, I'll be sure to pick up extra strawberries then.” Crowley made his way back to the produce area of the grocery store as he hung up the phone.

Almost immediately it rang again.

"Aziraphale?"

His voice sounded strange. "I'm sorry, dear, it's just...I needed to hear your voice again. Just for a moment."

"Anytime you like, Angel." Crowley was trying to keep his tone casual. Flirty even. He wasn't sure it was working. "Would you like to hang up first this time?"

"Very much so," Aziraphale's voice was calmer now. "Thank you, Crowley." He hesitated for a few moments, then finally there was a click, and the call ended again.

\--------------

Beelzebub was sitting at zzzzzzeir desk. It was quiet. The one thing that could be said for Crowley was at least when he was around there was something to do.

With this thought, Beelzebub’s eyes caught the Red Bull can sitting on the desk. Zzzzzze casually picked it up, turning it over. And then zzzzzze found the tab. 

Beelzebub shrugged and figured opening it couldn’t hurt. Might even make this afternoon more interesting. Zzzzzze pulled the tab.

Red Bull sprayed from the can straight into zzzzzzeir face. Beelzebub, Lord of Hell, glowered as Red Bull dripped slowly down onto the desk.

\--------------

Aziraphale had on reading glasses and stood in front of a chalkboard. The various writings on the chalkboard were titled "Potential Loopholes"

Crowley sprawled near him, halfway on the chair. One foot on the ground the other propped up. He was reading nearly upside down, trying to make the angel smile in spite of the grim necessity of the project at hand.

Aziraphale spoke as he wrote. His voice was much calmer than it had been earlier. “You miracled the can instead of purchasing it. This renders the bargain utterly void as soon as the forces of Hell find the tiny flaw that you missed.”

“The promise of wings was for their  _ brand _ , not their specific product. Red Bull is a philosophical abstract which is coincidentally, but not necessarily produced by them. Any can that is functionally identical to any of theirs is still covered under that brand mythos, regardless of who created it.”

Aziraphale continued talking as he wrote the next point. “They destroy the can or otherwise fail to drink it.”

Crowley finally sat up. “Not my responsibility. Just as it wouldn’t be their responsibility if we sought out demons and attempted to injure ourselves in the fallout of whatever dark deeds they were committing.”

Aziraphale continued writing, but his resolve was slipping and it showed in his voice. “They...they somehow trick you into drinking the can yourself. Without even knowing it! And that means…”

Crowley tried to get the angel to meet his gaze. Steadying. “I didn't just say stop trying to maim or kill us, I said leave us alone. That even means no third party hit jobs and it definitely means no... metaphorical poisonings with sinisterly-bargained beverages.”

Aziraphale looked away. “As you consume Red Bull in the future, its components eventually make it into your wings, so they can eventually take them. Or... or carve BITS out of them! Or........”

“That’s not at all how food works for us, Angel,” Crowley pleaded. “And I was careful to specify that the bargain applied only to the “wings” in that one exact can. And if that was somehow still a loophole, they’d have done whatever they were going to do immediately based on the Red Bull I've consumed in the past.”

Aziraphale’s voice cracked as he continued to write. “You lose all stimulation benefits from all Red Bull hereafter, and they are instead transferred miraculously to Beelzebub.”

“Not all Red Bull hereafter, just the one can remember? And even so…” Crowley stood and closed the distance between them with an unblinking stare. “D'you think I wouldn't gladly give up _ one _ type of energy drink to spend  _ eternity _ together with you in peace?”

Aziraphale stared into Crowley’s eyes, seeming near hypnotized. He fumbled behind him, trying to find the ledge to set the chalk down without breaking eye contact.

Crowley winked “...Or to give my old boss an unexpected sugar high and caffeine buzzzzz at the same time _ whenever I wanted?” _

Aziraphale closed the last bit of distance between them, pulling Crowley into his arms. Crowley brought his lips to Aziraphale’s softly.

“They couldn’t have you, and they won’t take me either,” he murmured with a smile.

\--------------------------------

It was two weeks before Aziraphale invited Crowley back to St James’ park. Crowley put some seeds into his pockets for the ducks, and off the Bentley drove. As he parked, Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale. “We don’t… Aziraphale we don’t need to go if you don’t want to.”

Aziraphale smiled weakly and opened the door. Crowley hurried to his side.

They walked through the park as they had so many times before. The only difference was that this time Aziraphale was leaning on Crowley, and Crowley’s arm was tight around his angel. 

At the duck pond, Crowley pulled the seeds from his pocket and held them out seemingly as an offer to Aziraphale. Then Crowley stood behind him, arms wrapped around him while he fed the ducks, occasionally kissing his cheek or hair.

They went and sat on the bench as they had so many times before. But this too had changed as Aziraphale sat primly and properly, and Crowley laid out on the bench, using Aziraphale’s lap as a pillow of sorts. And they talked of things. Nothing that truly mattered, which made it some of the most important things to discuss. Aziraphale calmly let his fingers run through Crowley’s hair.

Eventually Crowley looked up at Aziraphale. “Tempt you to a spot of dinner? I hear a table just opened at the Ritz.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Temptation accomplished.”

And they walked hand in hand back to the Bentley.

\---------------

Crowley carefully peered his head around one of the shelves and at Aziraphale’s bridge club gathered in the middle of the book shop. Aziraphale closed down early these nights, not that he didn’t close on a whim whenever he liked anyway.

Crowley was relatively certain that this wasn’t how you played bridge. Aziraphale had decided it involved cards and building a bridge. Now Aziraphale and an assortment of humans were gathered trying to build a large bridge from playing cards.

The humans seemed utterly enchanted. Crowley supposed that for the right people, it was far better than whatever the original game was.

It was the perfect time for Crowley to sneak out for some errands, though. Aziraphale was otherwise occupied and laughing. He began to make his way across the room, when he heard a voice.

“Oh Aziraphale, is that your young man?”

Crowley smirked and caught Aziraphale’s eyes. “Not a man.” Crowley all but announced, then he kissed Aziraphale’s forehead. He watched the angel’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, taking it in. “Just running some errands, angel. I’ll be back soon.”

Aziraphale nodded as Crowley pulled back.

“Oh, what did he mean by that dear?”

He could hear the smile in Aziraphale’s voice as he responded. “Oh, he’s been calling me that for eons.”

As Crowley opened the door there was a moment of confused silence. He grinned. Surely it was just the wind from the door opening that sent the cards tumbling down and the humans scrambling to gather them all. He paused for a quick glance over his shoulder. Aziraphale was staring at him, but his face was bemused.

\--------------------

Crowley sat up, breathing hard and shaking. He tried to tell himself to breathe. It just made it harder. His wings were still trembling. When had they come out?

“Crowley, what.”

His eyes met Aziraphale’s, wild and terrified. He stared into pale blue and gradually he found he was able to breathe again. Aziraphale’s eyes never left his. His hand came up to gently cup Crowley’s face, waiting patiently.

Finally Crowley was able to speak. “Just a… just a nightmare, angel. Would you mind-” He cut off looking at Aziraphale self consciously. 

Aziraphale gently kissed his forehead. “What do you need, love.”

“Would you mind laying over me? While I sleep?”

“Crowley how is that supposed to have any effect on...”

Crowley mumbled so quietly that Aziraphale had to lean even closer to hear. “This is my first nightmare uh since it happened.”

Aziraphale stared for a moment, considering. Remembering. Then a slow realization seemed to come over his face. “So, er.. What is it that you did… dream about? On those nights I lay over you?”

Crowley turned away, looking at a spot on the wall. Aziraphale followed his gaze for a second, then turned back towards the demon. He slowly reached his hand out to cover Crowley’s, watching his face relax at the touch. “Crowley?”

“I dreamed of you. Us.”

Aziraphale felt his face start to redden, but now Crowley was looking into his eyes.

“No, no, not like that, angel. Just you. Me. Holding hands. Usually in” and now Crowley felt the red rising in his checks. “In a meadow or something. Your hand in mine. Your wings around us.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “I’ll be here, love.” And the angel swore to himself he would, for every night into eternity if he needed to.

Crowley let himself lay back down, and opened his arms. Aziraphale curled up halfway over him, laying on his chest. Crowley made an incoherent "mmnnnhh" sort of noise in the back of his throat and wrapped his arms around the angel, breathing curls for more than a few moments, and then let his head fall back a little further and his eyes close. His arms tightened.

“Crowley, would you mind if I…”

Aziraphale smiled at the half asleep slurred voice. “Whatever it is, go ahead, Angel.”

Aziraphale brought his fingers down to brush at the side of Crowley's forehead in a gentle snap. “You will dream of…" he whispered, "...well, something nice I'm sure. And I'll be there to keep you safe."

Then he closed his own eyes and let his mind reach out for Crowley’s.

He opened his eyes to see Crowley standing in a meadow. Sunglasses gone. Smiling at him. Crowley’s hand came up to trace his face lightly as he leaned in for a gentle kiss. Then Crowley leaned back and stared for a moment.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?”

“You said to go ahead and… well..”

Aziraphale had seen Crowley smile many times. He’d seen sarcastic grins and tempting half twists of the mouth. He’d seen smiles that could only be described as shit eating and ones that were true and reached his eyes.

This smile he could only describe as radiant. Were Crowley an angel, he wondered if he’d be glowing lightly right now. He reached down and clasped his hand tightly.

And then Crowley was slowly pulling him further into the meadow. He watched animals go by. Mostly birds and rabbits. He was pretty certain he saw a pair of unicorns nuzzling just beyond the tree line. And then the meadow gradually changed from the normal wilds into a sea of flowers.

And Crowley was pulling him down into a literal bed of flowers, never letting go of his hand. And then Aziraphale was laying across his chest and he had to give a small chuckle at how reminiscent it was of how their own bodies truly were right now.

Crowley’s hand gently ran through his hair. And then Aziraphale realized what was missing, and he let his wings materialize.

They nearly glowed in the reflected sunlight, and he wrapped the white feathers around them both. Aziraphale felt as much as he heard a pleased murmur from Crowley.

He didn’t know if they slept like that for hours or days.

Eventually they both awakened, still in the same position. Crowley laughed when he realized Aziraphale’s wings really had come out as they’d slept, and gently ran his hands down the pristine whiteness.

Aziraphale felt his heart surge realizing that Crowley’s face still had the same radiant ease it had in the dream. He couldn’t stop stealing side long glances at Crowley’s face all morning, soaking in the view. It finally began to fade around lunch time. Replaced with something slightly less radiant, but no less happy and relaxed.

\--------------

Crowley re-adjusted a cloth napkin and deftly brushed the last stray grains of sand off the picnic blanket as if they were chunks of asteroid in a nebula. Then, hoping to fetch his angel before bugs or animals could touch anything, he decided against the Bentley and simply materialized in the bookshop. 

He heard Aziraphale moments before he saw him. Heard him shout his name in a startled, broken garble and a jumble of dropped books. 

“Angel what is it?”

They stopped running toward each other a few steps apart. Crowley alarmed, Aziraphale embarrassed and still breathing heavily.

Oh. Oh no.

Crowley’s wings manifested with a flourish, sending books flying everywhere. He rushed to pull his angel into his arms, peppering his neck with kisses and apologies, and wrapping him tightly in sleek black feathers. Aziraphale snuggled into the embrace.

“Dinner, angel?”

“Of course, would you like to go to the Ritz or…”

“Actually, I had something different in mind. May I?”

Aziraphale nodded and suddenly they were back on the beach, a lovely meal and wine set out on a blanket in front of them. “Oh Crowley, it’s lovely.”

Crowley smiled as he sat down with the angel. Eating while holding hands was challenging, but somehow they managed with some laughter and assisting the other with bites and sips of wine.

At the end of the meal, Crowley stood and held his hand out. “Come fly with me?” The sun had set during their meal and the stars were starting to shine, but the moon provided more than enough light to see by.

He saw Aziraphale close his eyes, pushing down memories. But he was determined to make new ones. He stood and took Crowley’s hand and they took to the sky together this time.

Aziraphale hadn’t planned to let go of Crowley’s hand for this first flight. But he also hadn’t planned to burst out laughing as Crowley pulled him into a plummeting kissing twirl that only leveled off just above the surf. Aziraphale gave him a quick hug and then soared back up, darting among the clouds.

Crowley was startled for a moment, enchanted by the white wings against the stars. And then he followed. And they danced in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is completely written. We're just re-reading, tweaking, and polishing before uploading the next chapter.
> 
> Wahoos via kudos and comments greatly encourage this process.


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